


Welcome to the Club

by tisfan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Other, Pre-Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark/Sam Wilson, Pre-Slash, crappy Christmas presents, disowned Tony Stark, moving in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24235783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Bucky’s getting some use out of his terrible Christmas Present. Unfortunately, Tony gets in the way.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 29
Kudos: 224
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, StarkBucksBingo2020





	Welcome to the Club

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustSomeoneUnordinary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeoneUnordinary/gifts).



> For Justsomeoneunordinary
> 
> Hey, are you still doing those prompts? If yes, would you write some IronFalcon - or even some WinterIronFalcon? (which huii ~ *fans myself*) With either 21. "Are you being sarcastic?" "Me? Sarcastic? Never." Or 82. "What a load of bullshit." Please and thank you! :D (If you don't do them anymore; whoops my bad :P)
> 
> StarkBucks Bingo B1 - Walking Disaster

Tony took the empty cardboard boxes, neatly broken down as requested by the big sign in front of the dumpers, down the stairs. Moving in the day after Christmas had been rough, and he was glad he didn’t have a lot of stuff to take with him. (Howard had practically growled the whole time he was packing, making sure he didn’t take anything valuable with him to sell on the other side.) 

The smallest rental van he could afford and a few trips, and he was now the proud renter of a shitty apartment with almost no furniture, some crappy dishes, his clothes, and Dum-E taking up space.

On the plus side, he’d discovered that his mom had slipped a couple thousand dollars into one of the moving boxes before he left, so he had a little less precarious problems than he had before he’d unpacked it.

Tony about jumped out of his skin when the dumpster next to him exploded. Debris rained down on him, sharp and stinging.

He hit the ground, scraping the denim out at the knee, and erasing some of the skin underneath. “Son of a bitch,” he yelled, covering his head.

The moment of sheer panic subsided and he realized what he’d thought was a bomb or gunfire was, in fact, the shattered remains of a plate.

He stared around, until finally he looked up to discover two men standing on a balcony overlooking the trashcan. One of them had his hand over his mouth and looked aghast. The other was laughing like a loon, pointing at the first one.

“Shit, man, you okay?”

Tony climbed to his feet, hissing as his knee stung. “What the _hell_ are you doing?”

“Sam’s chuckin’ china,” the other man said, still giggling. “Sorry, you’re just collateral damage.”

Tony looked down at his ruined jeans. “Yeah, great,” he said. “Fantastic. Terrific.” He limped a few steps back toward his apartment, the cut dripping blood down his calf and into his sock. Shit. He didn’t even think he owned a first aid kit.

“Seriously, man, you okay?” Sam was practically leaning off the balcony, and while it wasn’t that high up, falling three stories onto a cement sidewalk wasn’t going to be good for anyone.

“Scraped my knee,” Tony reported. 

“You missed, you asshole, you missed,” the other guy said.

“Hang on a minute,” Sam yelled, then smacked the other guy who was still laughing. “Shut up, you walking disaster.”

Both of them vanished into their apartment. Tony waited for a moment, then decided he didn’t really need someone taking pictures and for it to end up in one of those cheap supermarket magazines. It wouldn’t take long for Howard to figure out that Tony hadn’t even made it one day before something stupid happened.

He got all the way to the stairs before his leg decided enough of this shit. Fuck. Well, maybe he could just rest a bit, and--

“Wait, no, don’t sit down, we’re comin’,” the laughing guy said. 

Don’t sit down, what was he, crazy. “Don’t sit down,” Tony grumbled, “what are you, crazy?”

“Don’t you mind him,” Sam said. “Look, if it’s okay, we goan carry you upstairs and see to that knee of yours. You can trust me, I’m an EMT.”

“Don’t look at me,” the other guy said, “I just drive the ambulance.” The other guy was hard not to look at, honestly. Grey-blue eyes and a jaw you could rest a shot glass on. Man, Tony would like to do shots off that jaw, honestly. He decided that not getting punched in the face was the better part of valor, however, and didn’t say so. 

“You guys--”

“Work for the local hospital, yeah. I’m Sam Wilson, this is my partner, Bucky Barnes.” Sam offered a hand to shake.

“And you’re going to carry me upstairs,” Tony continued. “Are you sure you didn’t hit me in the head?”

“Yep,” Bucky said. He and Sam did something, and suddenly their hands were aligned in such a way, with one of them gripping the other’s forearms, that made a little basket of their arms. Something to sit on. Huh. Tony was impressed. Sure, why not.

“If you all drop me down the stairs, I will sue,” Tony said.

“I ain’t drop nobody yet,” Bucky said. “That’s Steve.” And at Tony’s blank look, he added, “another guy on our crew. But me and Sam are the same height, so we can do this.”

“Huh. Okay.”

Gingerly, Tony sat down on the little seat-frame they made.

“One, two--” Sam said, and suddenly Tony was being carried like he was the damn Prom King or something, and they went up the stairs with alacrity. Two flights and Tony might have been breathing hard, but these guys weren’t even breaking a sweat. 

“Uh, don’t you even want to know what floor I’m on?”

“Nope, you’re coming to our place,” Sam said. “My kit’s there.”

“Am I being kidnapped for my kidney, this sounds like it might be--”

“Oh shut up,” Sam said, “an’ open the door. It’s unlocked.”

“All right, here, on the sofa, and--”

“Drop your britches,” Sam said.

“This is sounding more and more like a kidnapping at every turn,” Tony said, but he did what Sam said, because there was, in fact, an EMT kit right there on the coffee table. And also, treating a scraped knee was going to take either getting the pants off, or cutting them open. And Tony didn’t have that many pairs of pants, really. He could get one of those iron on patches, and whine at Pepper, maybe, until she fixed them. Although she would probably just look up some videos on YouTube for him and tell him to stop assuming she knew how to cook or sew just because she was a woman. Maybe he wouldn’t ask her.

_See, Pepper, I can be taught._

Sitting in his boxers on someone else’s sofa that he didn’t even know was super weird.

“This is super weird, guys,” Tony said.

“No, no, the guy we had to triage about fifty feet down a drainpipe, that was weird.”

“I dunno, I liked the lady who got stuck to the inflow pipe of her swimming pool. That was fun.”

The two of them traded stories back and forth, Tony listening with rapt attention, as Sam cleaned out Tony’s knee.

“Here, you got some gravel in it,” Sam said. He pulled out a pair of extra long tweezers and a kidney shaped metal dish, plucking the rocks and debris from Tony’s wound with an expert hand. The gravel made little plink noises as it hit the dish.

“Little bit of bacitracin and some topical numbing agent--”

“Like the stuff in solarcaine,” Bucky added helpfully.

“--and a bit of spray on skin, to seal it up. Wearing a bandaid on your knee is all but pointless,” Sam said.

“Huh.” Tony looked down, then put his pants back on. It still hurt, but it wasn’t bleeding. So, you know, that was good. “So, uh, why were you throwing dishes off the balcony?”

“So, Bucky and me, we’re partners, right?” Sam said. “And--”

“My father doesn’t approve, which you know, whatever, screw him anyway,” Bucky said. “Although I can’t figure out if the problem is, I am gay, or that Sam is _black_.”

“Usually with that type, it’s both,” Tony said. 

“But he’s been trying to-- I don’t know, get fuckin’ brownie points with me by pretending everything’s still cool,” Bucky said. “It’s stupid, but I reckon he don’t want to end up being old and my bein’ the person who gets to pick his nursin’ home or something. Or he doesn’t want people to ask the wrong sorts of questions.”

“Bucky’s a hero,” Sam said. “It was in the papers and everything. So people do ask about his son.”

“So, he sent me this fuckin’ Christmas present, right?”

“Dishes?”

“Yeah, like, not even ones you can eat off, but those bullshit things you put on the wall,” Bucky said. 

“Bradford Exchange,” Tony asked, because Rhodey had gotten big into those for a while, buying plates with Star Trek ships on them, and the like. He had a whole collection of them.

“An’ like, not even nice ones of those. Crappy ones. With bible verses on them. That you get from like, the Dollar Store.”

“Which would still be okay, spirit of Christmas, maybe,” Sam said. “Except he regifted them. Someone at his office gave them to him, and he left the receipt in the box. Probably not on purpose--”

“With George, it’s not like you can tell whether he’s bein’ a jackass or not,” Bucky complained. “What a load of _bullshit_.”

Tony recognized that tone of voice, too. That was the tone of a man who still cared, and was mad at himself that he did. Wanting Dad’s approval and hating himself that he wanted it. And still not getting it.

“So, this happy asshole here,” Sam said, “was trying to see if he could hit the dumpster from the balcony. Which is how you ended up involved.”

“Hey, I got two of them in, which ain’t half bad. _You’re_ the one who missed by a mile.”

“My dad kicked me out three days ago, because he caught me in my room with a boy,” Tony said. “So-- can I join your club?”

Sam and Bucky looked at each other, then grinned. “We’ve even got jackets.”


End file.
